My blog is weird

You guys see a very different side to me in comparison to what many people in my life see. My closest friends know that I am pretty…erm…odd, but my work colleagues and casual acquaintances see “professional Jane.”

Professional Jane likes pencil skirts and blazers. She eats rye crackers and discusses politics with men in suits. She analyses exam results and collates them in the form of pie charts. She attends meetings with colleagues and has an actual clipboard. Sometimes, she ties her hair up with a pencil. Yes, professional Jane is a straight-laced, no-nonsense nine to fiver.

Then there’s “crazy Jane”. Crazy Jane tries to teach her cat how to curtsy (she *almost* has it). She has an inexplicable fear of foam and waltzes with herself. She likes to not stalk her neighbours with binoculars and pretend she’s a French mime artist. She also loves wrestling and tequila (in that order). Sometimes, she likes to drive slowly beside random joggers she’s never met while playing Eye of the Tiger. She also likes to frequent karaoke bars where she can rap California Love in its entirety.

So yes, I’m weird. But I’m not always weird. I could come on here and be normal but then you guys wouldn’t be (hopefully) laughing at with me.


In case you guys are wondering, crazy Jane mostly lives in a cage while professional Jane is at work. I let her out in the evening, where she likes to dance to Abba and blog. Crazy Jane sure loves to blog. She also loves talking to all her fellow weirdos and sending them virtual cake. She is uncomfortable with referring to herself in the third person so she’s going to stop now and knit some tea cosies even though she doesn’t have a tea pot. Sinister.


The Dating Game

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here

For serious though, if you imagine me as some kind of Marcia Brady character and you’d like to keep imagining that, it’s probably in your best interests NOT to read this. I’m nice most of the time, but I’m also a flawed hot mess, so, hey, proceed with caution. And if you’re going to judge me, do it quietly, ok?

So those of you who know anything about my life know two things: I like cats. I broke up with my cheating ex-fiancé at the beginning of the year. The breakup was rough, yes, but I actually felt an overwhelming sense of relief because our relationship had turned more toxic than whoever the hell Britney was singing about circa 2003. I guess everyone reacts differently to a breakup.

My reaction was…weird. I guess because I was cheated on, I somewhat immaturely (but understandably) sought validation. I wanted to feel attractive and desired. I’d also been in my relationship since I was fifteen years old and I’d only ever seriously dated one person. So I felt that I had missed out on years of good (and bad) dates. I joined Tinder almost immediately. It’s important to note that I wasn’t looking for anything beyond dating and or…what’s a polite and tasteful way to say hook-ups?

Ah, Tinder. It’s great and all but what Tinder giveth, Tinder taketh away. Mostly my dignity. Tinder is crazy, yo. I’m going to share my experiences right from that first post-breakup date to now because you guys really get off on laughing at me, don’t you? DON’T YOU?!

Full disclosure: I’m not going to discuss every encounter I’ve had because A) There’ve been, ahem, a few B) You guys would have me shipped to the nearest convent and exorcised and C) because some of the guys know about my blog and I don’t want to make them uncomfortable and or have them send me dead animals in the mail.

So I start matching guys like a rabid hyena (is that a terrible analogy? Why would a hyena be on Tinder? I have so many questions). I don’t usually initiate conversation because ain’t nobody got time for that. I let the guys message me. If they can spell, construct a semi-coherent sentence, make me laugh and look at least semi-attractive, I’ll give them a chance. The messages come thick and fast and I’m like a kid in a sweet shop. Handsome guys, great jobs, flattering and complimenting me like I’m some kind of Disney princess, what’s not to love? So initially, I was like

My first date was with a solicitor who was handsome, funny and extremely charming. On Tinder. In person, he was coked off his face and was just about the most intense yet distracted person I’ve ever spoken to. As we were just meeting for a quick drink, I was able to back the f**k outta that situation pretty quickly. I doubt he even remembers meeting me. Dope. He was also wearing a GIANT parka in a very hot bar. Like, I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life.

My second date was actually on the same night. Yes, I know that’s insane. But I’m a little insane. I was pissed off about the cocaine-addled solicitor so I wanted to meet someone normal and down-to-earth. This guy (let’s call him…Blueberry) was pretty attractive, and we had struck up quite the rapport. When I met him, he was shy and awkward. I talked. A lot. He listened and laughed. We kissed and I wasn’t that into it. But he’d travelled into the city to see me and I stupidly felt I owed him (don’t worry, I get better as time goes on). He was nice but I didn’t fancy him. So that was a nice date but it just didn’t give me the feels.

Then there was Ryan Gosling. Ok, not actually Ryan Gosling, but mother of god this guy was freakin’ haaaaawt. He actually looked quite like Ryan Phillipe. True story. We had nothing in common and it was purely physical but *blesses self* it was fun. Like, House of Mirrors and candy floss fun. And exactly what I needed at the time. It fizzled out pretty quickly because I think we maybe ever exchanged, like, three words to each other. Woah, that’s bad. *clutches rosary beads*

Ooh, let me tell you about acid guy. So I meet a guy for a few dates who is just about the most complex guy I’ve ever known. By day, he’s a financial analyst for a very prestigious insurance firm, by night he takes what I can only describe as a SHITLOAD of LSD. I don’t actually know this until about date number three and I moonwalk my way outta this situation pretty quickly too. He was actually a very sweet guy; but like a hyperactive puppy. You ever see that episode of Friends with Alec Baldwin? Yeeeeeah. There’s only so much ‘OMG YOU’RE SO PRETTY, I WANNA KISS YOU, LETS DANCE, DO YOU LIKE ESPRESSO, IS THAT A SQUIRREL?!’ that one can take. And he wanted to kiss. All. The. Time. I’m not talking about hot steamy makeout sessions. I’m talking literally every second of every moment that we’re together to the point that my oxygen levels are depleting to a point that I’m actually scared of dying. Not. Cool. But he was very funny and very kind and made me feel very good about myself. I know, I know, you shouldn’t seek validation from external sources but…he said I was purdy.

And then there was personal trainer guy who was also studying fashion design. Yeah. That’s a thing. He was…different. He was tattooed and handsome and my Mam would have hated him. He was incredibly sweet. Too sweet. Guys, I broke his heart. Ugh. I know what it’s like to be hurt so I really hate the idea of hurting someone else. But I was in a very self-destructive place and I couldn’t even conceive of committing to anyone. I still can’t.

He showered me with gifts. He brought me away on trips all over the country. He wanted to be around me all the time. And I felt suffocated. We’d known each other three weeks when he started talking about traveling together. I tried to break it off, but he just wouldn’t take ‘I’m not ready’ for an answer. He tagged me in things on Facebook, he messaged me constantly, he pestered me to the point that I almost had to block him. Instead, I told him to chill a bit, and he did. Phew. He still slides into the ole DMs every so often but I just don’t have any attraction to him now. Is that bad? Am I bad? Who knows?! Don’t answer that.

The next guy was great. He was incredibly funny, handsome, friendly…we clicked from the start. Again, there was never potential for anything more than a fun fling, but this guy was just about the most interesting out of all of my Tinder conquests. I can’t really explain why. He’s just a really good person. And I really liked his company. The fact that we clicked physically helped too, I guess 😋 He was creative, like me, with similar interests and passions. He was intelligent. He had a really cool and different job that he was so passionate about. He made me laugh out loud which is actually pretty hard- *sees a picture of a gorilla in a tutu* BAHAHAHAHAHA. Sorry, what was I saying??? Anyway, that guy was fun. His texts always made me smile. Our first date was also one of the more fun ones that I’ve had, and there’s nothing like a great first date. Or a bad one. We’ll get to that.

Right now, in fact. So I’d been talking to Doucheface (charming name, I know) on Tinder for weeks but I didn’t feel terribly drawn to him. Physically, he wasn’t my type but he promised me that if I went on a date with him, he would show me a great time. I liked his confidence and his perseverance so I agreed. Ugh. Mis. Take. So he picked me up in a spang new BMW. I mean, cool and all, but he looked at me as I sat in as if I should be salivating and ripping his belt off.

He spends the whole date talking about how wealthy he is, how hard he works, how great his life is. He tells me that he has the amazing house, the car and now all he needs is, and I quote, ‘a hot blonde with big boobs.’ I actually gag into my gin and tonic. I ask him to take me home and when he tries to kiss me, I turn away and tell him I just wasn’t feeling it. Then I get the ‘oh, well I’m not used to this happening’ speech. Sure you’re not, dude. Sure.

Then I met a guy I actually really liked. He was a builder by trade. He had travelled the world and had such amazing experiences to share. He was rugged and ridiculously handsome and so sweet that I couldn’t help but develop the most juvenile infatuation with him. He was kind to me but he was…broken. He suffered with quite serious mental health issues and we felt that with my own anxiety would just compound his issues and we would ultimately end up in quite a destructive relationship, so we ended what was a very short, but very passionate fling. He was a very sweet person though and I’m glad I met him.

There was Scottish guy who I met on a night out who was hilariously crazy and I couldn’t understand anything he said. We talked about films, his experiences of growing up in Glasgow and he made me laugh too. Again, it wouldn’t have gone anywhere because I wasn’t sure if he was telling me he liked me or reciting the lyrics to Bohemian Rhapsody. Accents, amiright?! We did have a dance-off because everyone can understand the can-can.

Then there was another guy who laid it on a little too thick. He became extremely clingy and needy and I couldn’t deal with it, so I had to let him down gently. He was sweet, successful and so much better than having to beg someone to date him. He irritated me a little by telling me that I needed a man in my life. No, hun, I don’t need a man at all. I’m good. He insisted that having a boyfriend would be good for me. That I needed minding. I get that his intentions were good and all, but it was a little condescending.

And zen zere was ze French guy. Oh guys. Attractive doesn’t cover it. Like, it was, as the French say, reeee-dicilouse, eh? He had the brownest eyes, the curliest mop of jet-black hair and the most arresting smile I’ve ever seen. And that accent would have melted lead. Or something that doesn’t melt easily, I dunno. This was by far the most intense fling I’ve had.

The attraction was instant and all-consuming. He was not only gorgeous, but intelligent and absolutely hilarious. He could make me laugh even when I didn’t want to. He was affectionate beyond belief and he remembered even the most insignificant things I told him. That meant a lot. We texted each other constantly. It was hot and heavy, but it was also meaningful and sweet.

So it got complicated. We both wanted to keep it casual. But that’s hard when you’re texting a lot, video chatting and cuddling. So he told me he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do the friends with benefits thing because it was too complicated. I totally respect that. I’m not ready for anything deeper or more meaningful right now. It’s too soon for me. But I’ll miss that ridiculously sexy French boy.

The last guy was just…I’m so confused about him. I DON’T GET BOYS. So he’s from the same town as me. And hey, I don’t want to insult the local men, but it’s slim pickins guys. This guy is in Cambridge studying physics. I mean, this is me guys: the space nerd. So I was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. We met for a walk and he was the preppy, very handsome type that your mother would put out the best doilies for. We seemed to hit it off, and we met again for wine, but it was…weird. It was like he wanted to be there, but he didn’t. It was like he was resisting something but that he really didn’t want to. I know I’m not explaining this well. He was very conflicted when it came to making a move on me. So I’m worried that I’ve now kissed a guy who has a girlfriend. I just have an intuition about these things. If that’s the case; my bad. But I didn’t know. I also forget his name, which is pretty d*ckish of me but don’t tell anyone, k?

And, er, that’s it. Look, you’ll possibly judge me. That’s cool. I’ve dated a lot. I’ve dated a lot because I never got a chance to do it when I was young. Dating has been the most fun I’ve had in such a long time. It’s made me like myself. It’s brought me into contact with some of the most amazing, fascinating people. It’s given me experiences and memories that I would never have had if I hadn’t taken a leap of faith. I love going on dates because I love people. It’s also been about seeing what I like, what I don’t like and being more discerning about potential future partners. When it came to my ex, I clearly wasn’t discerning enough. I’ll never let anyone treat me like that again.

I’m cool with being alone too. I’m not always on dates. Right now, I’m actually chilling with my cats and I’m not planning on dating anyone seriously for a while. I’m going to take some time out I think, for a little while anyway. I need to get to know myself outside of a relationship. In time, I’ll be ready for something more. Not right now. Right now, I just want something fun and causal that may or may not involve Netflix, wine and a little nudge nudge, wink wink. Chill guys, I mean backgammon. GEEEZE.

Also, on a totally unrelated note, I GOT ONE OF THOSE JOBS THINGS THAT ADULTS GET. So I’ve been teaching for years as a substitute and I finally secured my own hours in a very prestigious private school. So, happy dance and all that jazz.

I’ve also gone, like, totally blonde. Love it though because now when I say something ridiculously silly, I just point to my hair.

Anyway, feel free to share your own dating stories in the comments so I can judge you right back. Kidding. No I’m not.


How the hell are we??

My life has been a bit currrrazaaay lately (two syllables just didn’t seem like enough, ya know?)

I mean, I don’t even know where to start. I’m still teaching (I like to imagine myself as a non-magical Dumbledore). I am LOVING living alone because, well, naked cleaning. I am probably partying too much, but hey, it never killed anyone, right? (Okay, it’s killed a lot of people, but I’ve made it to 31 and I once attacked a toaster with a knife so I figure I’m lucky to have gotten this far). I’ve gone even blonder. I got my best friend a cat because I’m sound as hell. I’m getting a new tattoo. My friend had a baby. I’m getting another piercing. My cats have mastered teleportation (probably). I got a financial windfall and I’m planning to travel, maybe. Someone sent me flowers and I have no fucking idea who but my cat ate them. I FINALLY finished Ulysses. I started properly writing again and I love it. My friends are all amazing and I never need anything else as long as I have them, except maybe wine, chocolate and cats. And gifs of people falling over. I’ve been doing things I never would have done a year ago. I’ve opened myself up to new experiences, new people, new places. And it’s pretty great.

So that’s been my life. I’ve never felt happier. Sure, the anxiety kicks in every so often. I doubt myself. I doubt my decisions. But most of the time, I’m smiling. I’m laughing. I’m dancing to Carly Rae Jepsen.

That’s the thing about challenges; how you react to them is what defines you. Shit will happen. You can’t always prevent it from happening. But you can choose how you react to it. I’ve chosen to live. To really live. I analyse less and do more. It’s not always smart but it feels good. It feels right, right now at least.

Anyway, I just wanted to check in and say hello. I hope that you are having a peaceful day, whoever you may be and wherever you may be reading this from. Join me in some fancy internet tea and I’ll let you pet my cat which is not a euphemism, you deviant.

Some Short Stories

Hey loves,

I realised I have quite the collection of amazing short stories amassed from my years of moulding young minds (and definitely not playing them early ’90’s hip-hop).

So I thought ‘hey, why not share some of my favourites with you all completely unsolicited because I’m annoying like that’ and ‘I think my cat has telepathic powers’ but mostly the first thing.

A Perfect Day for Bananafish- J.D. Salinger

This is just perfection. It’s dark, it’s bizarre, it’s vintage Salinger and I love it.

Guests of the Nation- Frank O’ Connor

Frank O’ Connor is truly one of the best writers of short fiction. This story may require a little background knowledge on the Irish War of Independence but anyone would enjoy it. If you’re not completely moved by the ending, then you may be a psychopath. Special mention to First Confession also; it’s hilarious.

To Build a Fire- Jack London

Man vs Nature…who will win?

Spoiler: Nature, obvs

The Cask of Amontillado- Edgar Allan Poe

This story is all kinds of f**ked up and I f**king love it. A story so nice, I swore twice. Special mention to The Tell-Tale Heart also.

Genesis and Catastrophe- Roald Dahl

The twist in this is great and really makes you think. Also, Dahl rules.

You guys enjoy reading and I’m going to continue brunching while I still can:


And I’m Okay

Hi there!

I just wanted to update you all because I’ve gotten a few sweet sympathy emails and I wanted to say a) thank you, you beautiful people and b) I’m not drowning in a sea of merlot and cookie dough ice cream (but what a sea that would be…) But yeah, I’m good.

I’m currently on holidays from work for two, count ’em, TWO weeks…which means that I’m planning to do lots of fun things, like travel around the country in my crap car, while listening to podcasts and taking pictures on my Polaroid. Or visit a dark sky reserve with my darling little telescope. Or I’ll just lie on my sofa staring at my feet and listening to death metal.

Whatever I do, it’ll be fun. And that’s what I need. I could also do with a travel companion who will stop me from accidentally driving off a cliff (again…dammit) so if you know anyone (preferably Tom Hardy but I’m willing to settle) then hit me up.

In other news, I’m looking at traveling for the summer. I have no idea where, but sure isn’t that half the fun? My job means that I have the freedom to do it so why not? My job also means that I have perfected a passive-aggressive look of disdain, but mostly the freedom thing.

If you have any suggestions, I’d love to hear them! Let me dream for a little while…

There’s so much more that’s been going on in my life. But that’s for another day. Right now, I’m reading the poetry of Byron from a 105 year old book while simultaneously watching Jeremy Kyle. Because classy. Seriously though, the combination is amazing.

Enough about me. How is all with you? What have you been up to? Did you know that goats are actually just male sheep? Probably?

Kisses and hugs that linger for too long xxx

P.S. I was reminded of this scene from The Simpsons on FB today…how amazing/emotionally traumatising is it?!

Homer’s Mother Leaves

Well, bye.

Ah, Go On.

He writes my experience better than I could

nerd on the bridge

If only
he’d been honest
and told the truth
about his work wife…
would have turned out fine, you
would have understood,
cheered him on, and,
continued full-steam ahead
to the harbour
in Nuptials Bay,
where the priest waited
with me friends and family
to witness the pageantry
of public oaths I came to loathe
sooner rather than later, almost married
to a cheater, who loves
but doesn’t respect me enough
to confess
a year in advance
his romancing and shagging
some saucey little dish
that enhanced his happiness,
from what I know,
didn’t adversely affect how he felt
about me, after all,
I.F.T (I fucked Ted),
as a conversation-starter, and again,
as a warning,
so I assumed even then
it’d sunk into his head
that only men
are cheaters,
to sympathy and absolution,
the sole privilege of women.

I’m no fool,
nothing shocks me anymore, but…

View original post 65 more words

So I’m Not a Mom

Being a childless woman in your thirties isn’t always easy. I mean sure, I can sleep through the night, drink tequila on a Thursday and decide without any planning to go line dancing or ice-skating, if those were things I wanted to do. But there are downsides to my childlessness: namely, the presumptuous comments of some (of course, not all) mothers I speak to. Because I’m not one of them, I must have a wonderful life. I have such freedom, after all. I must have boundless energy. If I say I went out to the pub for a drink with friends, I’m met with ‘imagine being able to do that’. If I say that I feel a little tired because I’ve had so much overtime, I get ‘just wait till you have kids.’

Shockingly, there are women who are my age who simply don’t want to have children. That’s totally fucking fine. Not every woman has to be a mother. Not ever woman wants to be a mother. That doesn’t make her selfish or vain or proud. And what about the women who can’t have children? I can’t imagine how much senseless comments like the ones I hear on at least a weekly basis must hurt them.

Women who don’t have children are still loving, caring and compassionate. We’re not any more or any less selfish than anyone else. We have as much empathy as the next person. I remember telling someone once that I was anti-capital punishment and their response was ‘you’d think differently if you had kids’ as if I’m somehow incapable at arriving at a reasonable conclusion on the matter because I’m lacking some kind of empathy or sense of outrage that is unique to parents. Lately, I told some colleagues that I was re-reading the novel Room by Emma Donoghue. The plot is admittedly disturbing and the subject matter is dark and distressing. But it is also a well-written novel, about issues (kidnapping, rape) that occur whether we want to think about them or not. My colleagues (whom I really like, respect and get along well with) told me that they couldn’t even bring themselves to read the book. Fair enough, I thought. It is a tough read and not for everyone. But then the conversation turned into six mothers versus me. They told me that because they’re mothers, the thought of reading such a novel is particularly disturbing. I agree; it would be very difficult and you would naturally think of your own children in such a situation and that would be enough to cause you to avoid such narratives. But they didn’t stop there. I was met with comments like ‘you’ll understand when you have kids’ (which I probably just should get tattooed on my forehead) and ‘ god imagine being able to read books like that!’ I was made to feel as if I was some sadistic, voyeuristic sociopath who thrives on the suffering of fictional children. I just choose not to shield myself from difficult realities in life. Paintings by renaissance or impressionist artists can be disturbing and convey great suffering but they can still be beautiful. The same goes for literature and for movies. Appreciating them doesn’t make me some kind of psychopath.

And just because I don’t have children does not make me immune to outrage, shock, pain, compassion or disgust.

I don’t want anyone to think that I’m having a go at mothers or motherhood. Most mothers I know (my friends and my sister and sister-in-law, for example) serve as great inspirations to me. They’re exactly what I aspire to be if and when I decide to have kids. Even the mothers that do pass thoughtless comments don’t do it out of malice or spite, I know that. Mothers can be wonderful, resilient, kind, beautiful, brave people. Non-mothers can be just as wonderful, just as resilient, just as kind, beautiful and brave.

We are all women, different and the same, and we need to support each other and each other’s choices.

I’m the Worst Sick Person

I currently have some kind of head cold/chest infection thing that is making me feel like my head is stuffed with nails and or golf balls. It sucks. But I’m also just a terrible, terrible patient. I get the sniffles? Well, it must be Ebola. I get a muscle pain? Well, it must be some degenerative condition that will render me limbless in six months. Right now, I’m lying on my sofa wailing intermittently while surrounded by tissues and cats.*

I have always been a bad sick person. I mean, you’re not really sick unless you mention it at least thirty times a day, amirite? And you can hardly be expected to help yourself, so it’s essential that someone waits on you hand and foot, serving you hot whiskey and toast while you watch re-runs of Project Runway. Fluid intake is key to a swift recovery. And I’m sure my loved ones wouldn’t want me to die right? RIGHT?

So, tell me about your weekend? *twirls hair* What ya up to? I’ll listen while crying into my whiskey.

*Well, two cats. But they’re on either side of me, so….

How to Beat the Christmas Blues

Merry Christmas my deers (heh heh). Although it seems that everyone is just a little bit merrier at this time of year, some people struggle more than normal during the festive season. If you are prone to depression or anxiety, Christmas can be a really challenging and difficult time. Here are some tips to help you beat those festive blues:

1. Be sociable

It’s so easy to hide away in this cold and dark weather. Staying inside and shutting yourself off from the world, however, can be damaging in the long term. Meeting friends and family for a meal or even a coffee will automatically make you feel better and you’ll feel good for leaving your house, if even for an hour. Aim to stick to coffee or tea instead of alcohol, which is a depressant and will ultimately make you feel quite down. Hot chocolate is always delicious 😋

2. Make your ‘alone time’ productive

It’s important to strike a balance between socializing and relaxing alone. Time by yourself is necessary and healthy. For some people, however, it can be destructive and lonely. To combat negative feelings, go for a walk somewhere quiet and pretty (this time of year is so beautiful!). Alternatively, you could colour, draw, listen to music, meditate…whatever brings you peace. Don’t let those negative thoughts overwhelm you. If you’re busy, they can’t!

3. Don’t over-indulge

I know. I know. Christmas is all about going BIG. The problem is, however, for people with anxiety, over-indulging in food and alcohol and spending too money is a huge cause of stress. You should absolutely enjoy yourself but remember: moderation is key. Your belly and your bank balance will thank you for it in January!

4. Open up

Some people feel that they can’t express their negative or depressive feelings during the festive period because they’ll be a perceived as a burden or a ‘buzz-kill.’ The truth is, your mental health is important to those that love you and opening up to them shows them that you love and trust them. Bottling up negative thoughts is not helpful to anyone. Sharing your feelings is unbelievably helpful and therapeutic.

5. Find peace in the chaos

Christmas is an insanely busy and manic time. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed and over-stimulated by this. Remember to take the time to unwind and switch off. Sitting in a quiet room alone for ten minutes in total silence is a wonderful way of relaxing and de-stressing. Listening to Christmas carols is one of my favourite ways to unwind. Just listen to how peaceful this is:

Carols from Kings

6. Be kind and spread the love

This time of year can become ridiculously consumerist and materialistic. It’s a lovely feeling to just be kind and thoughtful and it costs nothing! When you are kind to others, it is a wonderful and rewarding feeling that just can’t be bought. Helping out a family member, volunteering for a charity or cooking someone dinner are just some of the kind deeds you can do. The feeling of being the cause of someone’s happiness is really uplifting. You will find when you are kind, you will receive kindness in return.

There you have it guys! I hope this was helpful to some of you and I hope everybody has a peaceful Christmas 🎄

This is the worst post I’ve ever ‘written’

So hello there friends! How have you all been? I’m good! I’m getting super excited for Christmas and also not knitting. I said *not* knitting, so nothing new there. I may have just invented a new tongue twister.

Aaaanyway, I just wanted to stop by to say hello and to spread some positivity and love. I feel like Julie Andrews on Prozac because I just freakin love this time of year. Everybody “it’s the most wonderful time of the yeaaarrr” and I’m gonna stop now because I don’t quite know the lyrics so I’ll just hum instead…

So what’s new with me?

Well, I’m still working. I just got drunk at my staff party but that’s okay because it’s basically expected of me at this stage. I am busy trying to plan my wedding (I say my, because I may as well be marrying myself), I’m buying things I can’t afford, I’m learning French and I just ate two packets of crisps and I hate myself. Standard really.

What about you?? How you doin’? Wait, that sounded a little pervy. How are you? *tilts head to the side* did that sound more sincere?

Remember, you’re only as old as your bra size… and hey, if that’s like 40 FF, at least you have big boobs, right? RIGHT?

My Fab Four 

Well hello there friends! I am just back from a fabulous break with my best friend and I feel equal parts exhausted and exhilarated. We ate, we laughed and of course, we drank. A little. Ahem. 

My eyes say ‘hello there sailor’ but my lips say ‘I was a little drunk when I did my makeup’

Anyway, as I mentioned in a previous post, I’ve been practicing acknowledging all the things I’m grateful for each evening and it really helps to remind me that I am lucky for a number of reasons. Today, I’m going to acknowledge four people who I feel very lucky to know. These gals bring me happiness and I am so grateful to have them in my life. So without further ado, here are four of my most lovely friends:

*I’m going to refer to them by their initials 


I have known F since we were both little girls knocking the shite out of each other. I don’t even know to put into words how much this girl means to me. We are both unashamedly weird, hyper and Simpsons-obsessed. We can make each other laugh by just looking at each other. She didn’t have the easiest of childhoods but she has never let this define her or obstruct her in any way. She approaches everything with positivity and enthusiasm. Her company makes me a better person and my life is made easier by having her along this journey with me. 


I’ve also known R since I was a little girl. I have always looked at her like another sister. When I was a timid, shy child, she brought out the best in me. She was always there, championing me to be a stronger, confident person. She is wonderfully mischievous and even to this day, she brings out my inner messer. We have always been so bold in each other’s company. We couldn’t sit next to each other in primary school because we were just too naughty and we probably only graduated secondary school because we went to different ones. R is one of the best friends a girl could have in her life. She is always there for me. She doesn’t know how much her dedication to our friendship means to me. She helps me and guides me in so many ways. She is inspiring and wonderful and I adore her more than I can ever express. 


C is a friend of F’s (try and keep up haha) that I met about eight (?) years ago. We are similar in many ways and I bonded with her instantly. She is intelligent, funny and kind. I really enjoy her company and we have the most interesting and random chats. She is the kind of person everyone needs in their life! I feel really lucky to have met her and I always look forward to seeing her. She is currently expecting a child and I couldn’t be more excited for her. She’s going to be an amazing mother. I haven’t seen her in a while and really miss her. Note to self: Next time you see her, smell her hair. 


I met K in primary school. Since then, we have been a big part of each other’s lives. She is such a strong, wonderful person and I admire so many things about her. Whenever we meet up, we’re like two kids again,  giggling and gossiping. She is just the best company. I love going out on night’s with her; she is the best fun. 

She became a mother this year and I swear her son is the most adorable baby everrrr. I am in awe of her strength and her resilience through difficult situations. I feel so lucky to know her and still be her friends after all these years and I know we have many wonderful years of friendship ahead of us. 

So there you have it, four women who inspire me and bless me with their friendship. Who do you feel grateful to know?